


Four time's a charm

by Totally_Legit



Category: GOT7
Genre: AU, Angst, Dubious Consent, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Homophobia, It's like the nightmare version of a Love Story, M/M, Slurs, Smut, This tag doesn't exist in this order. Strange, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 17:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17854334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_Legit/pseuds/Totally_Legit
Summary: Each time their paths cross it is completely different.But one thing about them stays the same.





	Four time's a charm

**Author's Note:**

> I am a mess.  
> No, this is not one of 12 wonderful stories I've been working on for the past year.  
> This is a piece of trash I've vomited over the keyboard in pretty much one setting.
> 
> I'm sorry it turned out this way.  
> I don't know what's wrong with me recently. My brain works in mysterious ways.
> 
> It is angsty and violent and, yes, I think it quite qualifies for Non-consensual elements, even if it does not feature straight-out Rape. Hence mind the Warnings.

The third time that their paths cross is not an accident. One day Youngjae finds a notification on his phone, a DM on his Instagram Account. He doesn’t need to read it to know that it’s Jaebum, whose variations of Account names have ever and always will include the Word ‘Def’ whatever it means. He almost decides not to read it, but who is he kidding? Of course he does.

His next almost-decision is to ignore that fucker, once he reads it. It’s so  _casual_ ! ‘ _Hey Youngjae. How’re you doing? Wanna do some catching up? Can we talk?_ ’ It’s fucking stupid. What’s he even thinking? What does he expect to happen? That Youngjae just writes back like. ‘ _Yeah sure, let’s hang out’_ . Which, of course he does. Why would he? Why not? He hates himself.

There are a bunch of vaguely formed ideas in his head. His heart is screaming it him, but inconsistent. It would be a slap in Jaebum’s face to ignore him. But it wouldn’t be a hard one. He needs to come up with something better to properly punish the man that shattered his heart into a million pieces and left him bleeding and broken.

And then, of course, Youngjae just really wants to see his face.

Jaebum is not subtle, but he’s not apologetic. He should be crawling on the floor, begging for forgiveness. He’s so smooth, like a damn fuckboy. They meet at a bar.  Jaebum tells him something along the lines of leaving the past in the past. Youngjae is furious. Then Jaebum uses the L-Word.  Halfway through the evening, Youngjae changes tactics. He dismisses the cold act, the pretending to be unphased by cheesy lines and heated looks. He jumps in on it.

He gets Jaebum drunk, who is still as much a lightweight as he was in university, slurring his words and leaning in too close for a public place. His lips brush the spot behind Youngjae’s ear while he whispers all the things he wants to do to him, from vanilla to kinky to downright perverted. Youngjae is by no means unaffected, shivers running down his body from where the warm, booze-smelly breath hits his skin, but even if not his heart, nor his tongue- his penis he has under control. Especially a lot more than Jaebum, who becomes hornier the more he drinks and Youngjae makes sure to seduce him into downing another shot and another.

He lets his hand slide under the table and palms Jaebum’s crotch. He’s worked himself up to the point where he’s rock hard and he fucking  _moans_ in Youngjae’s ear. All in that stuffy, ugly bar.

They take a taxi. Jaebum is so wasted, his whole body is slumped against Youngjae’s side and his mumbling is completely incoherent. He coaxes Jaebum’s address out of him and tells it to the driver. Jaebum almost eats him in the backseat, entirely oblivious to the driver’s nasty glances.

Once inside, Youngjae throws him on the bed. Jaebum is way too uncoordinated to do anything about it. It’s a miracle that he manages to stay hard at all. Youngjae gets them naked unceremoniously and straddles him, making sure to rub his butt over his length until he has Jaebum a moaning mess. He’s still babbling, telling him all kinds of things. From how perfect and beautiful he is, to how much he fantasized about all the things they could have done.

Youngjae finds lube and condoms in Jaebum’s nightstand. “Tell me again.” He leans down and murmurs into his ear after prepping and spreading Jaebum’s legs, settling in between them to push his tip against his entrance. “How much you wanted to fuck me.” Jaebum’s mouth falls open. Considering his fragile masculinity and borderline homophobia, he’s probably never bottomed before. Youngjae hopes so, as he enters him unapologetically, thrusting his hips forward and monitors his lips part in a soundless cry.

“Ask me again.” Youngjae says, rocking his hips rhythmically, driving himself deep into Jaebum’s body. “How I should ride you like a cowboy.” Jaebum whimpers quietly, his eyes flicker without focus. He looks pathetic and Youngjae’s heart cracks where it’s been glued together.

Youngjae grips his wrists, pressing them on the mattress while he increases his pace, trying to focus on the tightness engulfing his member, but he can’t miss out on how Jaebum chokes and shudders and how his hiccupping moans increase in volume. He fights to free his arms, but Youngjae has long since passed him in strength and weight, like he promised himself that night so many years ago.

He fucks hard and relentless, even as his hips begin to stutter, chasing release with clenched teeth and the deepest growl he can muster. Then,  _finally_ , he comes, buried in Jaebum’s depths and guilt stricken to the core. Jaebum is shaking, dry sobs tearing from his throat. Youngjae pulls out of him, removes the condom and flicks it down on the mattress. Jaebum does not move at all, lying back in the sheets with his legs spread like Youngjae left him.

When he bends down near his head to pick up a piece of his clothing, he sees the light reflect off his wet cheeks. Jaebum makes a tiny, sudden motion, but falls back entirely limp when Youngjae doesn’t lean in to comfort him.

It takes him his all to stay collected. When he is at the door fully dressed, he stops for a moment. “You were okay, babe.” He says and he thinks his voice is shaking, but relies on Jaebum not noticing it over the way he’s sobbing and then he shows himself out. He’s dizzy, as he walks down the staircase, his steps get faster and faster, strides longer when he leaves the exit behind and jogs down the sidewalk. He storms around a corner, leans forwards and throws up in the alley.

“Vengeance.” He thinks, never having felt as dirty in his live, skin itching and fingers numb. “Tastes like vomit.”

 

 

 

 

The second time their paths cross, it is completely unexpected by either of them. It’s a wonderful day, sun shining bright and warm, a soft breeze rustling the decorative wind chimes hanging from the nearby market stand.

Youngjae slurps on a gigantic ice cream cone, curtesy of Jinyoung while they stroll between the carts and stands full of overpriced goods and foods. These outdoor city fests aren’t usually one of his favorite options to spend time, but since the weather is so good, they decided to get some fresh air. There’s music playing and children running around with balloons and Youngjae thinks he can at least stay until he’s tried a bunch of foodie good things.

That is until his traveling gaze gets caught up on a familiar face. His brain is as lazy as himself and takes a moment to sort the face into a fitting category. The man turns with a carefree laugh painting his features; he looks around and their eyes meet. In his mind it finally clicks and Youngjae freezes in his spot. The confusing mess of feelings crashes down on him heavily.

For a split second he feels his heart take a leap and a strong pull forward, a vague idea to throw himself into that man’s arms. But reality settles in and his breath gets caught in his throat. Fear has his heart speed up and rush adrenaline through his veins, his flight response kicking in hard. Distantly he notices the smile on the other’s face freeze and then slowly start to fade.

That’s when anger sears up. Pure, unfiltered rage. The will to fight and to destroy heating his face while Youngjae’s hand balls into a fist. The ice cream cone shatters in it and drops to the ground, leaving a chocolatey mess on his fingers.

They stare at one another. “Youngjae?” He hears himself be called. It’s Jinyoung from a few meters away where he just realized he lost him. He tears his eyes away and turns. “Walk!” He orders himself in his head. He needs to get away. He doesn’t want to deal with this. “Walk.” He says, out loud as he strides past Jinyoung and pulls on his sleeve to get him moving.

 

It’s in vain. He just made it around another stand, going down a quieter street when he hears and feels something come up behind him and then  _his_ sleeve is being tugged on and a breathless voice whispers “Youngjae …”

 

Jaebum stares at him with huge eyes, when he turns around. There’s a bit of every emotion reflecting in the chocolate orbs, almost the color of his ice cream. Surprise, joy, excitement. But there’s none of the things Jaebum  _should_ feel. Shame and fear and a fucking apology. Youngjae wants nothing more than to spit in his face. Then yell at him, humiliate him and finish off by kicking him in the balls. But he can’t move.

“You are…” Jaebum lets go of his sleeve and shifts a little, finally showing a hint of discomfort. “It’s… been so long. How’re you doing?” He looks into his eyes, Youngjae’s mouth opens, but he’s too aghast to say something. “You look good.” Jaebum adds, when it’s too quiet.

Jinyoung finally seems to have picked up on Youngjae being all deer-in-the-headlights and he moves beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Hi, I’m Jinyoung.” He states cheerfully. “And you are?” He doesn’t extend an arm for a handshake. His policy is to never touch people until he’s certain they’re not evil and Youngjae finds that to be very smart.

“I’m Jaebum.” Comes the answer and his voice is firm, but Youngjae can see how he looks at Jinyoung expectantly, vary even. That’s what breaks him free of his trance. For a moment he felt like being caught in a different dimension, an alternate reality where Jaebum wasn’t the man who hurt him that viciously, but he shows, pretty obviously, that he expects or maybe even dreads that Jinyoung would pick up on the mentioning of his name. Jinyoung won’t, because he didn’t know Youngjae back then and he never told him. Never wanted to.

“Well, it’s absolutely dull to meet you, Jaebum.” Jinyoung states and his fingers squeeze Youngjae’s shoulder. Jaebum’s lips press into a thin line. Youngjae snaps.

“Don’t you ever fucking dare to come running up to me like that.” He threatens. “Ever fucking again.” Jaebum does take a startled step back. “What are you even thinking you having ANY right to talk to me?” Youngjae scoffs. “You know what? Don’t you even dare to look at me you fucking piece of trash!” Jaebum opens his mouth. Maybe to say something, maybe just because he’s shocked, but he gets interrupted before he makes a sound.

“Jaebummie?” A sweet, but pressurizing voice wafts through the air and behind Jaebum’s shoulder, Youngjae can see a young man walk up to them. He’s cute, though his eyes glint dangerously. His arms links with Jaebum’s pulling him close and throws them a curious glance. “Jaebummie, don’t run away from Minnie.” He chirps, “Minnie don’t like.”

Next to Youngjae’s ear Jinyoung makes an obnoxious ratcheting sound and he can only agree. How old is that weirdo talking about himself in third person like a toddler. He scowls about Jinyoung’s portrayal and nudges his cheek against Jaebum’s shoulder. But he’s keeping his arm so tightly locked, it’s an obviously possessive gesture. “And you are?” He spits, venom dripping off his voice.

“Leaving.” Jinyoung answers before Youngjae can. “Oh thank god.” The guy rolls his eyes and looks up into his, what Youngjae assumes in growing confusion, to be his boyfriend’s face. “Bummie, why you were talking to those people?” He scrunches his nose and finally Youngjae can see the shame and discomfort and most of all, regret seep into his features.

While Jinyoung tugs him away at his shoulder, Youngjae mildly shakes his head. With the most spite he can fill into his voice he says. “Goodbye, Jaebummie.”

 

As they turn and walk away they can hear toddler-boy scold. “I told you not to talk to other guys when I’m not around! What were you even thinking running away from me to chase some slut down the street?!”

It should be cathartic. To listen to Jaebum being in an apparently suffocating relationship, but he feels nothing. No cold sense of satisfaction, no joy. He can’t yet wrap his head around it at all. Was that really Jaebum? Im Jaebum? With his boyfriend?!

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jinyoung asks, when they’re safely back in their apartment. They walked all the way quietly and after placing Youngjae on the sofa, Jinyoung went and got a wet towel. He knelt down by his feet and gently took his hand to wipe away the dried chocolate ice cream.

Jinyoung is everything a person can wish for. Youngjae studies his handsome face with the comforting smile and feels his heart swell. They love each other dearly. Somewhere in the middle between platonic and sexual and romantic. They dated, they moved in together. Then they realized that their relationship is perfectly imperfect. They’re not made for each other and they know it. They both long desperately for something more exciting, more adventurous. But they promised each other that until then, they would stay together the way they are. As friends and occasional lovers and whatever they are feeling like.

“I don’t really.” Youngjae admits. Jinyoung nods and puts the towel away when the hand is all clean, but he still holds it. “An Ex, huh?” Youngjae shakes his head. “Not really.”

That night they’re lovers.

Youngjae stalks Jaebum on Social Media two days later, which is excruciatingly easy. Jinyoung’s head is leaning on his shoulder and he stares along onto the laptop screen. Surprisingly the relationship status states “Single.” And there’s not a single photo of Toddler-Boy. Instead a bunch of pictures with Jaebum’s friends, some of which Youngjae recognizes and some he doesn’t.

And one photo, unremarkable. A badly illuminated picture from a restaurant of some sorts, two steaming bowls of ramyeon on the table and behind it sits a beaming Jaebum with his arm slung around the boy sitting next to him. Nobody would spare this photo a second glance. Except Youngjae recognizes the young, shyly grinning guy with the messy hair.

“Oh, that’s you, pupper.” Jinyoung exclaims and points excitedly. Youngjae doesn’t answer. He looks so carefree. He remembers that day. Of course he does. They were so happy there and not even 12 hours later… his world had crumbled to dust.

He’s almost had it. He’s about to close the profile and never return, almost convinced he’ll stop grieving Jaebum for the rest of his life when he spots the current status update.

 

‘ _I met my fate today. He still shines as bright as the sun. Nothing will ever be able to taint him._

_I broke up with my boyfriend._ He _is the only one I’m ever going to love.’_

Youngjae shudders and throws the laptop shut. The post is two days old.

 

 

The first time that their paths cross is everything but spectacular. They’re university students and have a mutual friend. It’s especially unremarkable because Jackson is essentially everybody’s friend. They’re at the same place at the same time at a couple of occasions and they chat and laugh. They hang out at a party and they exchange numbers.

Then they begin hanging out together, just the two of them. First sporadically, then more frequently. They share a love for music and animals and good food and beer. Youngjae teaches Jaebum how to play Egoshooters and Jaebum teaches Youngjae to play basketball. They go out to concert and they meet at home to quietly chill with a six pack until deep into the night.

They are buddies, for a while but they grow closer and closer until they’re essentially best friends. Jaebum isn’t just good to have fun with, he’s also a good listener. He’s attentive and assuring and Youngjae finds that he can tell him about his worries and Jaebum gives good advice and in return shares his own stories. They learn to know each other intimately and their mutual friends tease them about being inseperable. But they don’t care. Their love is real.

They don’t talk about it, ever. About romance or sex or anything in general. But Youngjae doesn’t think it’s necessary. They know each other too well. When they hang out at Youngjae’s place, it often gets so late that Jaebum sleeps over. Youngjae’s bed is queen size and they just crash together, no big deal.

Sometimes they hang at Jaebum’s place, when Youngjae’s roommate brings a girl in or throws a party that he’s not in the mood for. Jaebum’s bed is small, but they still share it. Then Jaebum scoots really close at night and flops his arms and legs over him. They often wake up in a mess of entangled limbs, but it’s okay. And after a while, even in Youngjae’s bed where there’s more than enough space Jaebum huddles up close and his face buries in Youngjae’s hair as they fall asleep snuggling.

There’s no awkwardness between them. They share clothes, sometimes, they go to the sauna together and when one of them is really upset they’re not ashamed to cry in front of one another and wrap the other in a comforting hug.

Youngjae sees himself falling in love in slow motion. Bit by bit by bit. From one shared love to another. Between chats and hugs and playful teasing. It doesn’t surprise him. He’s never felt like that for anyone, not even the guy he lost his virginity to. He’s genuinely afraid to lose their friendship if things go awry, so he stays quiet for a while.

There are hints though. Jaebum’s sparkling eyes and the way his hand lingers on his knee. How he hums in content and his eyes fall close in his lap when Youngjae strokes through his hair. It is beyond intimate and loving. So he finally decides to man up. He knows he won’t regret it, however he ends. He can’t see them part over it. He’s wrong.

They’re out for dinner with two friends, having a genuinely good time. When the others say good night, Jaebum looks at him questioningly. “I’ll come to your place.” Youngjae states and they start walking. Jaebum’s place isn’t far; barely a 10 minute walk. Once inside, Jaebum tiredly throws himself on his bed. There’s no need to offer him anything, they’re so comfortable at each other’s homes, it’s basically like their own.

Youngjae sits down on the bed, too, cross-legged and collecting his courage. “Jaebum hyung.” He starts. Even while they speak comfortably, Jaebum strictly insists on the term and it makes Youngjae feel cozy, so he does. “Hmh?”  
Youngjae takes a deep breath. “Can we talk about something… uhm… unusual?” He witnesses his brows furrow. Times where they were timid about any subject are long past. He shrugs.

‘We should take the next step.’ ‘You know how our relationship isn’t normal friends.’ ‘How do you feel about me?’ These and other stupid sentences go through his head, but Youngjae bites them back. He should have thought about this prior. Properly. Now it’s a bit late. So he decides he should go all in.

“You know I am in love with you, right?” He says quietly. Jaebum’s brows knit further. “Eh?” He makes, confused. Youngjae repeats himself steadily. “I am in love with you.” Jaebum sits straight up. His mouth opens in surprise, or shock. Then his brows untangle and slowly the corners of his mouth twitch, then pull up into a smile. Relief floods Youngjae’s senses, but the smile keep growing and growing until Jaebum is grinning brightly and finally he breaks out into laughter.

He laughs loudly, shuffles around on the bed and finally slaps Youngjae’s thigh. “Ohhhh my god, Youngjae!” He booms. “You had me, I swear to god, you had me there.” He keeps chuckling, but Youngjae freezes. His body goes numb. “Jaebum!” He interrupts and the laughter fades. It doesn’t cross his mind to play along with it, pretend a joke. He’s never felt vulnerable in front of Jaebum, had no urge to keep himself a secret or feel ashamed. He will understand, one day, that that’s why it made him fall so deep. He wasn’t shielded.

“I wasn’t joking.” He explains, watching Jaebum’s mouth go slack. “I mean it. I don’t know… how you feel about that, but… Our relationship exceeds the average friendship and I…” He shrugs a little helplessly. “I just think that’s where this is going and… I ended up falling for you.” He really tries to keep it casual. Sane. He knows that something is wrong, when Jaebum scoots backwards over the bed. Away from him.

The seconds are like hours while they stare at one another. Then Jaebum murders him in cold blood. “You’re a fag?” The choice of words, the quiet tone, the disbelieve and disappointment in his voice have Youngjae’s blood run cold. He’s too taken aback to even answer.

“Tell me this isn’t true.” The same quiet voice orders. Not pleads – orders; and Youngjae feels like he’s never heard it before. He can’t answer. He just stares, his feelings and fears and desires laid out in front of him. Unprotected.

Then Jaebum gets up, threateningly looming over him and says a single word.

“Out.”

 

Youngjae bawls his eyes out. He hides in his room and doesn’t even go to class the next day. He’s shaken to the core, unable to cope and he has no idea what to do. His first and only instinct is to run to Jaebum for comfort when something upsets him.

He tries a few texts, when he can see his screen without being too blurred by tears. ‘Let’s please talk it out.’ ‘Let me explain.’ ‘Help me understand.’ But they stay unanswered.

It’s hard. The days are long and dreary and Youngjae suffers. But he manages. He will manage. He would have managed.

If he weren’t as stupid as he is by going to that dumb party. All he wants to do is get really drunk and maybe hook up. But their circles of friends are too much made up from the same people and they end up at that party together.

Seeing him hurts, but Youngjae has the naïve idea that not all is lost. Jaebum gets drunk easily and he’s very truthful once he’s drunk. Sadly, being drunk does not make him a better person per se. It just enhances whatever he’s like sober. When he’s in a good mood, he becomes cheerful and giggly. If he’s in a sad mood, he’ll cry like a baby.

Today, Jaebum is angry.

He follows Youngjae to the bathroom, who, because the other one is occupied stumbles down the stairs into the basement where there’s another toilet that not many partygoers know about. When he emerges, Jaebum is there blocking the way.

“You!” He growls and Youngjae knows immediately that this is not a good situation to be in, but his trust for Jaebum runs deep. “You _fucking_ faggot!” The accusatory tone is as hurtful as the words. “I _trusted_ you!” Jaebum’s voice rings through the dimly lit basement. He punches the bare wall with the ball of his hand.

“And you still can.” Youngjae attempts to reason, raising his palms up in defeat. “Look, that’s why I want to talk. If you don’t feel like that about me… that’s _okay_.” “OKAY?” Jaebum asks loudly, tone mocking and angry. “None of this is _okay_!” He crowds Youngjae backwards, against the wall. “You deceived me!” He accuses. “You fucking homo bitch deceived me!” Youngjae tries not to listen to the words and instead focus on what’s lying underneath. The innuendo is clear.

“I slept with you!” Jaebum elaborates and Youngjae notices that he starts slurring his words. “You seen me naked, you…” He’s still getting closer and to be honest, Youngjae’s never felt this defenseless or threatened in Jaebum’s presence. “You _perved_ over me! You fucking… FUCK!” Youngjae bumps into the wall and Jaebum hits the wall with his flat hand, leaving it there, caging him in.

“You’re sick! You’re disgusting. You’re trying to put this one me, you… You know _nothing_ about love, you sick fuck.” Since Youngjae can’t back off any further, Jaebums gets closer and closer. They’re facing each other directly and Youngjae almost laughs at himself for assuming they’ll be kissing any moment, but then they are.

Jaebum isn’t rough. He tastes like cheap alcohol, but he’s gentle. His lips are warm and wet and he leans in closer until their bodies are aligned with one another. Youngjae’s arms wrap around his neck and hold him close and they kiss, soft, but deep, with carefully measured motions until they part for air.

Youngjae’s heart aches. “It’s okay.” He whispers and cards his fingers through Jaebum’s hair, rubbing his scalp soothingly. “Everything will be okay. I’ll make it. Trust me, I’ll make it alright.” This is what they’re friends for, he thinks. To help each other through everything.

Jaebum’s fingers scramble up his body, over his chest. His hand reaches his neck and then his fingers wrap around his throat. Youngjae has no time to react. In a rash motion he falls, he’s pushed and his head hits the wall painfully. He chokes, Jaebum’s hand on his airways, he presses him back against the cold stone.

Youngjae makes a gurgled cry and his vision, blurred from the impact clears only slowly. When it does, he witnesses the scariest thing he’s ever seen. The look on Jaebum’s face is pure hatred. Evil and cold as ice. Youngjae’s hands curl around the wrist that holds him to pull it away, but to no avail. He can’t breathe properly, after the moment of shock is over, fear and despair seep in. He tries to form words, but nothing coherent comes out.

“You disgust me.” Jaebum says, then he finally lets go. Youngjae’s legs give out and he falls, Jaebum takes the opportunity to lash out and kick him straight in the stomach. He curls in on himself and ends up coughing and whimpering to Jaebum’s feet.

His mind doesn’t register. His flight instinct kicks in, but by the time he caught enough breath to get up, Jaebum gets his legs up to kick his knee to the side of his head.

When he falls again, Jaebum follows, grabs one of his arms and turns it onto his back, confining him painfully while he presses him into the hard ground chest forward. Youngjae freezes dead, when he feels Jaebum tear at the waistband of his jeans, enough to pull it down beneath the curve of his butt. “Is this what you want, pussy? Get fucked like a chick?” Jaebum hisses. “Lemme see if I get ‘im hard for you.” Youngjae hears his zipper. “Don’t ever tell anyone I wasn’t a good guy, huh?! Doing this for you, bitch.”

“Please stop.” Youngjae’s voice breaks when he finally manages to produce a sound. He whimpers and struggles. “Yeah pretend, faggot!” Jaebum’s hoarse voice slurs while Youngjae can make out the motions of his hand against his butt, stroking himself.

“Like this isn’t just what you want. What you always wanted. Gross!” He spits on the ground, right next to Youngjae’s face. “No no no” He hiccups while he pleads and as he starts crying for real he feels the trace of Jaebum’s cock rub against his butt.

 

Then he is saved.

Upstairs the door crashes open and loud voices are carried down to them. Jaebum lets go, gets up, Youngjae wants to call out for help, but he can’t move, just lie there and sob quietly. He places a last kick into his ribs, then he stumbles along the hallway and up the stairs. His steps are hasty and whoever comes down is slow, sings drunkenly and flops down step by step by step.

When he reaches the landing, Youngjae suddenly becomes painfully aware that his bottom is bared and that he’s lying on the ground like… like what Jaebum called him. He just so manages to pull up his pants and sit up. His body aches, but he accomplishes picking it up from the ground.

His heart however, remains in pieces to his feet, when Bam Bam bounces around the corner and stops dead in his tracks.

 

Youngjae spreads the lie that he and Jaebum just fought and he lost. Then he changes schools. 

 

 

The fourth time their paths cross, Youngjae ends up faced with the most terrifying decision of his life. Jackson, who matured extraordinarily well, sits down with him and stares at him like he sees his deepest, darkest secrets. “I know.” He states and more isn’t necessary. Youngjae hates him. 

H e then talks. About Jaebum’s life, about his decisions, about his past. About his presence. And he knows all of it. Jackson is the guy who stayed in touch with Youngjae, the only one he allowed in his life after he ran away. And he’s the one who went through his transition with Jaebum and he just knows.

At some point Youngjae had started crying, but neither of them interrupted. Then, at some point, Jackson goes quiet and looks at him with a great sadness.

“Everyone else...” He speaks slowly, “I would tell to walk away. As far as possible and never look back, but… You’re too broken.” Youngjae sniffs. “Both of you. You’re the only ones who can fix each other… Or be broken together.”

It takes Youngjae exactly 24 hours to understand that he’s right. Youngjae is not the hero in his story and Jaebum isn’t the villain. There’s no happy end for him, away from Jaebum. There is no catharsis. While he curls in ins his bed and cries he misses Jinyoung. Jinyoung who is now happily taken and thus ended their arrangement. He lost Jinyoung, not to their mutual agreement. He lost him to his own twisted mind. Jinyoung is the hero in his own story and he found his peace. Away from his story’s villain, where he belongs.

Because more than anything. More than the pain and the betrayal and the  wounds that Jaebum left on him. More than all of that it hurt him to realize that there is no future for them. Youngjae could not hold onto anyone, not even Jinyoung when he knew, that he was secretly craving what he has once felt for Jaebum. Feelings that he would not have for anyone else. His love for Jinyoung was real. But it wasn’t  _it_ . 

He digs out the letter. A real letter on paper, written in blue ink. Jaebum had it delivered, no doubt through Jackson, as there was no postal stamp. There were all the words. Apologies over apologies and explanations and more apologies. Youngjae had hated it. He’d hidden it and pretended it didn’t exist. He hated the fact that he wanted to forgive him more than he hated Jaebum himself.

 

Jaebum,  who  stands in his door, sweatpants and nothing but and a shocked expression when he finds Youngjae there. “ I’m sorry.” He says without being asked. “For… you know… last time.” Jaebum is quiet for a moment, then he answers “I know.” Youngjae nods. “Good.” Jaebum nods. “Good.”

 

Then they’re onto each other. They stumble back into the apartment with their faces glued together, the door falling shut, though Youngjae doesn’t know who pushed it. He doesn’t know what either of them do. He can’t figure out where his own body ends and Jaebum’s begins. They tear at clothes, they fumble for naked skin. They fall, right onto the floor and it takes ages to scramble back onto their feet to continue their journey. They didn’t agree on it, but they both know where it’s going to end.

When Youngjae falls onto the bed, he’s wearing one sock and his underpants. Jaebum tugs them off. They roll into the sheets together, entangling their limbs and kissing and touching and prodding. Between the wet, hot kisses,  Jaebum murmurs confessions. When his lips press to Youngjae’s neck to suck on his skin, he answers  within a moan. It’s like time stops.  For a moment they stay perfectly still. Youngjae repeats it, just to make sure he actually means it. “I love you.”

Jaebum’s face hover over his own, they’re breathing each other’s air and Youngjae sees nothing but chocolate eyes. “I love you too.” Jaebum says, as if he hadn’t just said it a thousand times. The storm died down, leaves nothing but a gentle breeze. When they kiss again it’s tender, warm lips against lips. Curious fingers explore patches of skin, tangle in messy strands of hair, hold on to taught muscles. They’re learning each other, first and foremost, sleeping together just the side effect of curiosity and affection. One that has been held back for an eternity or longer.

Jaebum is a gentle lover, against all odds. Youngjae falls back with his eyes closed and relishes. It’s all he ever wanted. Be touched and caressed, held and admired.  Jaebum kisses his stomach, licks his nipples, squeeze s his thighs.

“I turned gay for you.” Jaebum whispers in his ear, making him shudder. “I dove head first into a relationship with the first man I could and I stayed there, telling myself that’s the life I had to deal with now.” Youngjae remembers Toddler-guy.

“Every time I slept with a man I closed my eyes.” Youngjae whispers back and snakes his legs around his waist. “And imagined it was you.”

E verything about this is wrong. And it’s amazing. There’s no hurry left in them. It’s mind-blowing intense. When Jaebum enters him, he’s sure he never felt anything better in his life, never felt so clear and bright and awake. They hold onto each other as if their life depends on it while Jaebum rocks his hips. He thrusts deep inside of him and his eyes are wild and hungry, but he’s so contained, so steady, it has Youngjae lose his mind.

If there is catharsis, this is it. His aching legs and burning skin and Jaebum’s wet lips that dive down for another lingering kiss time and time again, until time becomes meaningless and they just exist. In their own little world where it’s just them and their bodies and their sickening love.  Youngjae’s eyes fall shut when he comes, when he arches off the bed with a quiet scream, when he hears Jaebum moan and feels him shudder and fill him up.

They fall back together, all harsh breaths and heaving chests, the smell of sweat and sex thick in the air. And Youngjae does not need to fear opening his eyes, because when he does, he sees exactly what he does behind his lids. Not the man of his dreams, not a perfect world. Just Jaebum.

Jaebum lies next him him and looks and touches his face.

Youngjae knows this is what they needed. He knows they’re walking the tightrope over endless depths of pain and destruction. He might be happy.

He turns his body to fully face Jaebum and places a hand on his chest.

“Do you want to enter an unhealthy relationship?”

Jaebum smiles. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope someone made it through and it isn't too poorly written, because I can't bear to read it again to check.
> 
> Love you guys. Stay happy.


End file.
